A Black and White Affair
by Captain Hilts
Summary: After Tony Stark's personal savings are hacked by a devious outside source, The Avengers are gathered to find the culprit. Clint Barton is assigned to lead the covert mission...and between the fancy clothes, Stark's attitude and the arrival of an unexpected guest, it just might kill him.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Hello! I've been wanting to write a story like this for awhile, so I came up with how would the Avengers-all of them-interact in regular society? On a stealth mission? This is what resulted. Have fun. :)_ _I did!_

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Tony Stark—Ironman, self-proclaimed Playboy Billionaire Philanthropist—slurped on an oversized iced coffee from Starkbucks and Clint Barton tried to ignore him. Most of Stark's expression was hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, tinted caramel brown with silver frames. They matched the color of his suit and contrasted the purple of his necktie. As always, Stark dressed as confident as he was. He slurped coffee again through a bright green straw, purposefully loud. Barton narrowed his eyes.

"You'd think after all the times we've done this, you'd be able to take it seriously," he said.

Stark didn't respond, still drinking. In the seat beside Barton, Natasha Romanoff scoffed and folded her arms across her chest.

"You would think," she muttered.

Barton smirked. He looked across the table at Steve Rogers, who appeared somewhat subdued in a plain hooded sweatshirt. He'd been called from the gym to meet in the up with them in the briefing room. Barton understood all too well the look of subtle annoyance on the Captain's face; he himself had been enjoying the first dream he'd had in weeks before his cell phone unwillingly jolted him from the warm, sunny beach he'd been on. A private beach, with a cooler full of good beer within reach and a turquoise ocean in front of him…

The briefing room was exactly the opposite: steel everywhere, bulkheads visible, flashing computer screens and scrolling numbers. There were no windows. There were never any windows in rooms like this.

Dr. Bruce Banner stood a few feet behind Barton, studying the data outputs with a frown on his face. He, unlike Stark, seemed interested in what they were doing. Barton figured that made sense, being Banner loved the lab and it was hell trying to get him out of it.

"What's this about?" he asked. "Does anyone know?"

Stark's eyebrows appeared from behind his sunglasses but he kept silent, still drinking the iced coffee. Barton moved to say something, but Natasha beat him to it. She was good at that.

"Would you happen to know anything, Stark?"

He cleared his throat and set aside the near-empty cup.

"Yes," he said. "I know that I have to pee."

A deep chuckle sounded from the other side of the room. Barton made a face; Thor was no help in the fight against Stark. They always egged each other on if it came down to it. Rogers wasn't much help, either. Ironically, Bruce was usually the mediator. And as usual, Barton sat back and watched it all play out. It was more fun that way.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Stark," a familiar, commanding voice said. "But you should've thought of that before you brought a damn iced coffee into my briefing room."

Nick Fury strode into view, his visible eye narrowed in disapproval. Barton was relieved, knowing Stark would probably cut out the whole "annoyed child routine." Probably. Fury stood at the center of their table and dropped a collection of file folders on to the pristine surface.

"And no one is leaving until you've all been thoroughly debriefed," he added.

Stark shrugged. "Fine, I'll hold it. I made myself a heart; kidneys should be a cinch."

Natasha rolled her eyes. Rogers hung his head and washed his hands over his face. Barton pursed his lips.

"Is there a reason you're being so damn difficult?" he asked.

Stark opened his mouth to say something, but Fury's voice answered instead.

"Yes, Agent Barton, there is a reason." He hit a button on one of the touch screens and the lights dimmed. The screens lit up around them with various images. Thor, even after everything he'd seen, still found computers to be the most intriguing. He sank into a chair and stared along with them.

Barton frowned. He recognized the man in most of the pictures—very tall and very large. Most of the man's bulk was muscle despite his size; this was evident in his thick neck and meaty hands. But age had rounded his muscles and his stature. Still, Barton wouldn't have liked to piss him off.

"Wilson Fisk," he said. "I thought SHIELD cleared him a few years ago."

"A few years ago he was clean. But recent events have caught our attention and proved otherwise," Fury replied.

Stark cleared his throat, staring at the images from over top his sunglasses. Fury sighed.

"Three nights ago, one of Mr. Stark's personal trust funds was hacked. It wasn't easy, but we managed to trace the culprit to one of Fisk's employees, Alistair Smythe."

The Avengers stared at Stark. He held up his hands. Barton looked at him crookedly.

"How much was stolen?" he asked.

Stark hesitated. "…about $100 million."

"Well, $100 million isn't a lot at all," Rogers scoffed, shaking his head.

"Regardless," Fury continued, stopping the argument before it could happen, "one of our own is in need and it is our requirement to help. Fisk and Stark are not exactly friends to begin with and starting with this theft, we think Fisk might be targeting him."

"What's the reason?" Natasha wanted to know.

Stark straightened up in his chair and took off his sunglasses.

"Fisk invested in Oscorp at the time Stark Industries was trying out alternative energies. This was back in the sixties when people were worried Dad was going the hippy route."

"But Howard Stark invented the arc reactor then," Bruce said.

Tony grinned. "And all Oscorp could fall back on was weapons and information technology. Fisk lost a ton of money ignoring clean energy and apparently he's taking it out on me."

"But Fisk isn't a global or even a local threat; he's just a business man." Barton held up his hand to stop Stark from saying something. "Granted, it sucks he's stealing your money, but can we prove he's using it for bad intentions?"

Fury hit another button and several weapons flashed cross the screens, most of which Barton had never seen before. Nearly everything in the briefing sessions was classified, and it didn't surprise him to see something he'd never seen. It merely made him a little nervous; made his hands itch for a weapon of his own.

"Oscorp is similar to what Stark Industries once was, only they have become a leading weapons manufacturer, outdoing Hammer Industries, which went bankrupt last year. Supposedly, they don't outsource their weapons, but we have information that says otherwise. Fisk seems to have had a say in some of those transactions," Fury explained.

"You said _seems_," Natasha said, the hint of a smirk curving her lips. "That means we don't have enough to arrest him, do we?"

Fury smiled. "Fisk does a great deal of charity work. He has several charity business and shelters throughout the city."

"You're not answering my question, sir," Natasha replied.

"You didn't let me finish, Agent Romanoff. It seemed very suspicious for us when we learned that a series of Colombian banks had been robbed—sometimes destroyed—a few weeks before Fisk donated any money. You know as well as I it's all a front; money laundering and everything in between. If he'd been going after cartel controlled property, maybe we'd have turned a blind eye. But there were American interests involved."

"Namely Stark's technology," Barton said. "Jeezus."

"Precisely," Fury answered with a nod. "We'd been testing a few things down there, mainly for security. The trouble with trying to pin this on Fisk is that he's good at covering his tracks."

Barton pursed his lips. He knew it was a big deal if Stark's personal funds had been hacked; until then, he'd thought it virtually impossible for JARVIS to be compromised. Fury reached into the pocket of his trench coat as he spoke.

"Oscorp HQ is located here in New York City. They've been running their own clean energy experiments and want to exhibit them to the public."

He tossed something on to the table. Barton raised his eyebrows as several white envelopes spread across the smooth counter.

"You've all been invited to the 5th Annual Oscorp Charity Ball."

Barton took the envelope, brushing away the black glitter lining the edges. He frowned, recognizing his name on the invitation in looping script.

Clint Barton:

Join us for a wonderful evening!

Socialize and celebrate as we honor the journey

Of Oscorp Corporations into an environmentally sound institution.

There will be drinks, food and demonstrations.

Please note that this will be a black and white affair

And dress as is appropriate.

Barton scowled. "We're going in civvies for this?"

"Why do I read Thomas Robertson as my name?" Thor asked, trying to rub the glitter from his hands.

Stark shrugged. "Well, 'Thor' would kind of make it obvious we're all going to be there, so…"

"You are all going to report to this event and see what Fisk is up to," Fury told them, his voice rising over theirs again. "He is going to make a donation and we're damn certain he's going to use Stark's money for it. I really don't want to directly fund terrorism, lady and gentlemen, do you?"

They remained silent. Fury leaned forward over the table, gripping one of the empty chairs. "Now, being that Fisk is going to use Stark's money, that means he will have it there to make the transfer directly to Norman Osborne, the CEO of Oscorp. I want you to stop that from happening as quietly as possible."

Barton sighed and looked around at his fellow Avengers. Stark was waiting, clearly annoyed and, Barton noticed, slightly worried. Thor was still trying to get glitter off his hands, Rogers frowned at his invitation, and Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Natasha looked back at him and arched her eyebrow.

"With all due respect, sir," Barton said. "This doesn't seem like a job for all of us."

Rogers nodded. "I agree. I'm all for stopping this man but this seems too complicated to involve all of us."

"And—no offence to you, gentlemen—but stealth isn't really Thor or Ironman's specialty," Natasha added.

"Oh, so it's the Hulk's?" Stark countered, straightening up in his seat.

Natasha scowled. "At least Dr. Banner won't blow our cover by blasting AC/DC out of every available speaker."

"Um, that's battle strategy, honey."

Thor laughed. "You have much to learn about the battlefield."

Barton ran his hands over his face. It had been a long time since they'd bickered like this. A headache was beginning to pulse behind his eyes and he shot to his feet.

"_Yes_, this is a stealth mission, so we need to do things a little differently. That doesn't mean we can't function like a team because we have to be quiet about it."

"Which is exactly why I've selected Agent Barton to lead this mission," Fury announced, tucking his hands behind his back. "He knows how to handle this particular type of situation."

Barton stared. The Avengers stared back. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Son of a bitch…"


	2. Chapter 2

He really wanted to know what he'd done to Fury to warrant such punishment. Maybe he hadn't done anything, but whatever the reason, Clint Barton did not want to lead this mission. Stark was being difficult because it was his money at stake; Rogers had gladly let Barton take a turn in the leader's spot, even though he knew Cap was too nice to say it annoyed him. But none of that mattered because he was a SHIELD agent, and SHIELD agents followed their orders or Nick Fury would be pissed.

In the end, he went the "secret agent" route: ear pieces, separate cars, designated observation zones. The ear pieces were something of a prototype; Barton had put in a request a long time ago for more reliable communication and the multiple-channel earpieces would have to do. The only ones he worried about were Thor and Stark. Thor hated wearing his ear piece ("I do not understand. Must I speak louder for you to hear me?") and Stark hated taking orders from Barton. Rogers had taken his motorcycle to the event so all Barton could hear on his channel was the growl of the engine.

The only ones not on his nerves that night were Bruce and Natasha. The three of them had driven in a separate car together and let the valet take it back. They now stood at the bottom of the staircase in front of the building Oscorp occupied for the charity Ball. The entrance hall was lit in green and gold, with faint traces of blue along the edges of the banners spanned across the floor-to-ceiling windows. New York City skyscrapers glittered behind the building; Barton could just see the blue glow of Stark Tower in the distance.

He pulled at the collar of his white dress shirt and winced. Natasha smirked at him. Trying to find a way to hide his bow and a few arrows under his suit jacket had been a challenge, but they'd managed. The only problem was he had to wear suspenders instead of a belt in effort to help keep everything in place. From the look on Nat's face, she was having fun watching him fidget.

"Shut up," he muttered.

She actually smiled. "Now you know how I feel."

Her red hair was pulled up in a tight bun and she wore a simple black dress with a halter top which she had complained about, mainly because it was difficult to wear her equipment under it. Barton regretted making fun of her for it as one of the arrows dug into his back. He shrugged his shoulders and it moved. Bruce clapped his shoulder.

"Tony and Pepper are here."

Barton turned, watching as Stark appeared from the back of a very flashy black Rolls Royce, gently taking Pepper's hand as she stepped out after him. Their driver warned the valet about something before handing over the keys. Barton turned back to Bruce.

"I'm going. Keep me posted."

He headed away back through the crowd into the parking lot. Once he was out of the eyesight of the bored valets, he ducked behind several vehicles and pulled the bow from a holster under his arm. He flicked his wrist and the string twanged as it snapped into place. Barton flicked a tiny switch on the back of his earpiece device, which blended well enough with his ear it was practically invisible.

"How's the straggler situation, Big Guy?" he asked.

"Ironman is inside. Black Widow is right behind him," Bruce replied.

Barton reached back and pulled two arrows from under his jacket. They were smaller than his usual ones, with very sharp tips that glinted dully in the moonlight. He flicked the switch again.

"Thor, you copy?"

"Yes!"

Barton winced and held his ear. "Dammit, you don't have be so loud, for the last time! I'm in position—get ready."

"Affirmative."

He could still see the entrance from where he was. Bruce was hanging around at the bottom of the staircase, pretending to be waiting for someone. The double doors at the top of the stairs closed, and two burly security men stood outside, arms crossed. Barton could tell they didn't carry the standard tasers—those were Berettas on their hips. He held up the bow and carefully balanced two arrows between his fingers.

"Sandman is en route," he said.

He took in a breath and let it out slow, pulling back on the bow. The string snapped with a satisfying _twip_ and the arrows sailed across the parking lot, over the heads of the now-bored teenage valets, and thudded directly into the chests of the two guards. They only had five seconds worth of surprise before the tranquilizers kicked in and it was sleepy time.

"It's a go," Barton said.

Bruce hurried up the steps and Thor appeared from the side of the building, looking quite out of place dressed in a dark suit and formal slacks with his long blond hair. He picked up one of the men effortlessly and hoisted him over his shoulder. Bruce dragged the other around the side of the building and laid them in the shrubbery. Barton closed down his bow and replaced it under his suit jacket.

"Try to hide 'em good," he told Thor. "Bring the arrows back and I'll meet up with you."

With a careful sweep of his surroundings, he confirmed there were no more guards to worry about—no armed ones on the roof, none on the perimeter. The rest were inside, huddled around Fisk or amidst the other guests. That was Rogers's concern. Barton stood up from his cover, and straightened his suit jacket. He nodded to the valets and headed back up the staircase to meet with Thor and Bruce.

"The party's going to start soon but there might be a few more people to show up yet," he said. "Let me know if anyone looks suspicious. Don't let them through 'til I give the okay."

Bruce nodded. He reached into his pocket and hit a button on his cell phone.

"The camera is ready," he said.

Barton smiled. "So far so good, huh?"

"And what of the hammer?" Thor asked, handing over the used arrows.

"That stays where it is until you need it."

Thor looked disappointed, but nodded. Barton shook his head as he headed inside, pulling the used arrowheads from the shafts. He really didn't see how explaining the plan to these people several times still didn't get through their heads. But they weren't used to this; he had to remind himself. He flicked the switch again on the ear piece as he walked, carefully tucking away the arrows.

"How we doing, Captain?"

It was a moment before Rogers responded. "I can see Fisk; he was talking to Stark earlier, looked really smug about it."

"I hope Stark played dumb," Barton sighed. "Don't take your eyes off him, Cap. And don't touch your ear."

He added the last part because he could hear what sounded like static the whole time they were talking.

"Sorry," said Rogers.

"It's all right. Act natural, get a drink, chat up a few girls."

Barton straightened his lapels and brushed at his shoulders. He spotted Nat's red hair up ahead and walked into the ball room. The floor was smooth marble and a long table of food stretched the length of the room to his left, topped with several fruits, veggies, meats and even a three-story cake. There was a full bar at the other end of the room, collecting girls in mini black dresses and suave looking guys in three piece suits.

Rogers stood at the far end of the wide room, trying to look inconspicuous. Barton winced. He puffed out a breath and smoothed down a wrinkle in his suit jacket, caused by the bow, which he carefully readjusted under his arm.

"Just let me know if anything seems a little odd, Cap," Barton said. "I'm out for now."

The ballroom was packed with people, all dressed in black and white. Most of them looked like the 5th Avenue penthouse suite types: diamonds, furs, Armani suits. Stark's crowd, essentially. Barton could have swiped several thousand dollars' worth of diamonds, gold, and silver as he politely edged his way through the crowd but he hadn't done that kind of thing in years. It was best not to relapse now, wading through a bunch of science-loving socialites. He appeared beside Natasha, who must have read his thoughts with the way she arched her eyebrow.

"These people are clean, Clint. I'm sure they've earned that jewelry."

He scoffed. "As far as we know."

She just rolled her eyes. Barton nodded to a few people as he walked, not entirely sure they even cared he made eye contact with them. Natasha led him toward Stark, who stood with Pepper Potts and their driver, talking with a few members of Oscorp. Stark was clearly more interested in his martini than whoever he was talking to.

"No foul ups, right?" Natasha asked him, waiting for the two men to leave them. Pepper had already noticed them and looked thrilled to have someone else to talk to. Barton didn't blame her.

"None," he replied. "Unless of course you forget the only suit we could get Thor in makes him look like a Chippendale dancer."

Natasha tried not to laugh. Barton grinned, just because he knew she'd hate him for it. Stark's driver had noticed their arrival and looked coolly back at them. Pepper greeted them with a wide smile.

"So nice to see you, Clint! You look so handsome."

He smiled. She moved forward to embrace him, just like he expected. She patted his back a few times and expertly slipped the strap of her purse over his shoulder. Pepper was a natural; he couldn't have asked for a better exchange. He hugged her a little harder to show his gratitude and she smiled again, holding him at arm's length.

"It's great to see you too, Mrs. Stark," he said.

She laughed. Like everyone else at the party, Pepper wore black and white, though she sported a polka dot dress and white pumps. Her hair was pulled back behind her ears with small barrettes. Stark wrapped his arm around her.

"Now, why don't you yell at him when he calls you that?"

Pepper looked at him crookedly. "He's not my husband, Tony. He should call me that."

Barton carefully took the purse from his shoulder and held it at his side. The driver cleared his throat and Stark introduced him.

"Clint, this is Happy Hogan. He's a hell of a driver and he's got a nice right hook. That's really all you need to know."

Barton was surprised a grown man would still go by the name Happy, but decided there was irony to it after the driver tried to crush his hand during their handshake.

"Uh…nice to meet you, Happy," he said.

Happy let go of his hand. "You too."

His expression softened when he looked at Natasha.

"You remember the right hook, I'm sure," he told her.

She laughed. Barton looked at her like she was crazy.

"And I'm sure you remember mine," she replied.

Happy smiled somewhat sheepishly and Pepper laughed again.

"You two look so lovely tonight," she said. "I love your dress."

Barton sighed and stole a glance at his watch as Natasha and Pepper launched into small talk. To his surprise, Nat seemed to be enjoying it. But they didn't have _time_. The exchange had been made, and they needed to move. Barton shot a look at Stark. He smirked and finished the last of his martini.

"That's too bad about your purse though," Pepper was saying.

Natasha sighed. "Yeah, wish I could've found a black one…"

Barton cleared his throat and grabbed her wrist. "Navy blue looks _fine_," he said through gritted teeth. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"

He jabbed Natasha's shoulder. She shot him a look. Ahead of them, Wilson Fisk headed up to the raised stage area, prepared to give a speech. He wore an intensely bright white suit jacket and dark slacks. It looked like he was crushing the speech cards in his hands. Barton managed to lead Natasha away from Stark and Pepper, but not before Happy told her to hurry back for a dance after the speech. When they had reached the edge of the ballroom, Barton snorted into laughter.

"That dude was shooting me looks the entire time," he said. "You didn't tell me about your little crush."

Natasha thumped him hard on the shoulder, enough to probably leave a bruise. Barton kept on laughing.

"Shut up," she snapped. "He doesn't know what he's doing. Tries to be all chivalrous. It drives me crazy, and not in a good way."

Barton bit his lip to stop laughing. "Oh, Tasha, don't even. You're not fooling anyone. I just don't think he's your type—"

She stared at him this time. A warning stare. He still managed a smile. They headed from the ballroom toward the staircase leading up to the second and third floors. She crossed her arms, waiting for orders.

"Get in position," Barton told her, still grinning. "I'll holler when I need you."

"Fine."

He headed up the staircase as she walked to the elevators. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

"He's not that bad," she called up to him.

Barton shook his head. He pulled out his phone to see the camera feed from the front doors. Seconds later, Bruce's voice sounded in his ear.

"Hawkeye, we have a situation."

"What's up?"

"There's a young man here, thought you might want to check him out."

Barton frowned. "Let's see."

In the camera feed on the phone, he could see Bruce step back from behind one of the support pillars. Thor was talking to a much younger man, probably in his early twenties at the most. Barton squinted. The kid wore glasses and a somewhat baggy suit jacket. A bow tie and jeans completed his look. Thor shoved him and the kid jumped back a few steps.

"Why the hell did he do that?" Barton asked.

Bruce sighed. "He's a member of the Press. Thor took it literally."

"I don't think he's a threat," Barton replied with a smirk. "Let him through. I'm almost in position; I'll give you a head's up."

He cut hit his connection with Bruce and headed up the stairs, hefting the purse along with him. He pulled it open and headed for the second staircase in the corner to lead him up to the third and final floor. His quiver of arrows rattled as it snapped from its compact position into its normal size. Barton slung it over his shoulder as Wilson Fisk's voice boomed from the microphone downstairs. He checked his watch. The speech was estimated at fifteen minutes.

That gave him ten.


	3. Chapter 3

"I love being in on this whole thing," Pepper said.

She leaned against Tony and squeezed his arm affectionately. He shushed her, setting aside his empty martini glass on a tray held up by a passing waiter. Happy stood beside them protectively, his hands tucked behind his back.

"I had to convince Fury to let you come along," he said. "But Barton seemed to like the idea. I think he has a crush on you."

Pepper giggled. "Please. Fisk is going to give his speech, you're being rude."

Tony scoffed. Fisk just wanted to take a chance to gloat in front of all the people who had so willingly given him their money. Not to mention _his_ money.

"Ten bucks says he makes a lame joke about me."

Pepper kissed his cheek. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."

Tony sighed and swept his gaze around the ballroom, finding Rogers by the bar. Several girls had flocked around him and he looked somewhat overwhelmed. Tony shook his head. The Captain had no idea how well he had it. But Tony was a married man now; he squeezed Pepper's hand as Wilson Fisk stepped behind a podium at center stage and began his speech.

"Thank you all so much for coming to this event and showing your support. I think I speak for everyone at Oscorp when I say I am thrilled to focus our concentration on clean, efficient energy opposed to machines built for mass destruction."

The crowd clapped in response and Fisk nodded appreciatively. Sweat shined on his bald head. Tony made a face.

"That last bit is probably a dig at me," he said.

Pepper shook her head. Natasha's voice suddenly broke into his thoughts.

"The Hawk is in the nest," she said.

Tony made face. "Really? Couldn't you just say—"

"He's _there_, Stark. I don't have time to argue about jargon with you."

Pepper threw him a sideways glance. Tony raised his eyebrows. He mimed scratching his head and flicked the switch on the earpiece, turning to Barton's channel. Fisk was blabbering on about something to do with the rivalry between Stark Industries and Oscorp. The crowd laughed and looked back at Tony, Pepper, and Happy. Tony forced a smile and pretended to laugh. It was good enough for Fisk and the others.

"How's it going, Men in Tights?" he muttered.

"Fine," Barton replied through gritted teeth. "Just stay in one spot, all right? Don't get in my way."

Stark smirked. "Sound advice."

Pepper nudged him. "Be nice, Tony."

He was being nice. He had to be nice. This was probably the only shot they had at getting his money back and he should've been more cooperative. Pepper was right, as usual. But Tony hated Fisk, especially the fact Fisk had dared to steal that much money from him on the first try. Tony was saving that money for the future; should he and Pepper have any children, he wanted them taken care of. He was pissed that his kids were already getting slighted and they hadn't even been created yet. Fisk's voice was still booming through the hall when a smaller one broke into his thoughts.

"Mr. Stark? Do you have a moment?"

Tony didn't look back at first; he was busy watching the Captain attempt to flirt up the swarm of girls that had surrounded him at the bar. Pepper squeezed his hand and he turned. A young man stood in front of them, a camera slung around his neck. His brown eyes were magnified behind black-rimmed eyeglasses. Tony raised his eyebrows. Nerd alert.

"I'm Peter Parker," the kid said. "I report for _The Daily Bugle_ and I was wondering if I could get your picture?"

"Sure," Tony replied. "Get the Missus in while you're at it."

Pepper sighed and he wrapped his arm around her. Tony winced as Barton's voice sounded in his ear.

"Not watching the perimeter, Stark."

Tony cleared his throat, a warning to Barton to shut up. Peter Parker busied himself setting up the shot, focusing and refocusing his camera repeatedly. Polite applause rang out in the hall once again. Tony flashed a smile as the camera clicked. He pinched Pepper's butt just a bit to get her to laugh. She shot him a look once the kid put down the camera. Her cheeks were slightly pink.

"Thanks," Peter said with a wide grin. "Sir, I have to tell you…I'm such an admirer. I've always been impressed by your technological programs even before you were Ironman. They're simply brilliant."

Tony cocked his head. "Thanks, kid. The praise is well-deserved; always nice to meet a fan."

"I'm something of a scientist myself," Peter went on. "I study physics and chemistry in school extensively. I would love to do what you and Dr. Banner do."

Tony liked the fact that this kid wanted nothing to do with Fisk. He welcomed the little boost to his bruised ego. Peter shifted awkwardly and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"What do you think of Mr. Fisk's recent work?" he asked.

Tony took a moment to think. His gaze turned toward the ceiling. He tried not to react as a thin black arrow suddenly shot across the room and thudded into one of the security cameras. Another one followed it and it shivered slightly as it hit the second camera in the opposite corner. Both lights on the devices presently went out.

"Black Widow is on the move," Barton's voice said in his ear.

Tony looked back at the kid. "Okay. Well, that's a good question. I think he needs to think about his projects more thoroughly. It takes patience to convert our resources into clean energy; you can't just jump on the bandwagon when you feel like it."

"I completely agree," Peter replied. "Mind if I quote you on that?"

"Not at all."

Movement caught his eye again at the corner of the stage behind Fisk. He could see two men by one of the exits. Burly, tall, probably armed. Tony bit his lip. Peter scribbled something on a notepad and grinned at him.

"Thanks again, Mr. Stark. I appreciate it so much."

Tony was glad he was leaving; he thanked the kid somewhat absently and narrowed his eyes at the men. They might've been bodyguards but he doubted it.

"Hey, Clint," Tony muttered. "Might be some trouble behind Fisk, to his left. You see 'em?"

It was a moment before Barton answered. "Yeah. I'll get on it. Stay put, keep Pepper and Happy close."

"Fine by me. Do your thing. I need another drink."

High up above the ballroom, Barton rolled his eyes. He adjusted himself carefully on the criss-crossing support beams that lined the ceiling of the hall. From where he was crouched, he could feel the warmth from the chandeliers hanging underneath him. Stark stood with Pepper and Happy below, in front of the stage. Barton clicked a button on his quiver and the arrow shafts twisted to give him another tranquilizer tip.

"Don't worry about it, Stark. I never miss." He switched to Natasha's channel before he could hear the sarcastic reply from Ironman. "How's it going, Tasha?"

He edged a little further out from behind the support beam and looked down the stage at Fisk. He could see the men Stark had mentioned and knocked up the arrow.

"I think I'm having a situation over here," Natasha told him.

Barton frowned. "That's not what I wanna hear…"

"I hacked into the computer system. The money isn't here."

"What?"

"It's not here, Clint."

He cursed. "That doesn't make any damn sense! He's supposed to hand over the money to Osborne tonight."

"I'm looking right at it," Natasha continued. "The account reads zero."

"Dammit…all right, just stay where you are. I'm going to look after Stark and then we'll regroup." Barton sighed and aimed his arrowhead. "See what you can find while you're in the system and I'll stay on line. Looks like Fisk brought some muscle just in case."

She acknowledged him. He drew the arrow back and aimed behind Fisk. It was a little tricky, but he could aim properly without having anyone see it. He exhaled slowly and released his hold on the string, watched the arrow fly….

…and stop in mid air before it could reach its target.

Barton's eyes widened. Inexplicably, it looked like the arrow was caught in a spider's web.

"What the-?"

"Not so fast, Robin Hood," a voice said.

Barton whirled around, trying to keep his balance as he turned. The stranger was faster; he lashed out with his foot and drove it straight into Barton's gut. He gasped out all the air in his lungs. His boot slipped and he tumbled from the beam. Barton hurriedly grabbed for his bow, but it was too late; his back thudded into the chandelier and he groaned in pain. Natasha was shouting in his ear. Glass tinkled from the impact of his body and the light swung dramatically across the room. He tried to grab the chandelier on the way down, but it was useless.

"Crap!"

His hand slipped over the last hot piece of glass and the wind caught his hair. He was falling and it was impossible to stop.

"Crap, crap, Crrraaaap!"

Barton was only briefly aware of how silence had fallen on the ball room. With a strange thump, he landed flat on his back on the long table displaying the main course, crushing several plates of food and the three-tier cake under him. Black and white frosting splattered his face and fluffy yellow cake squished under his body. He groaned again. Barton managed to lift himself out of the cake, smearing frosting over his face as he moved. Natasha still hollered in his ear. Dazed, Barton turned toward his terrified audience.

He barely had time to recognize Stark and Pepper in the crowd before screams echoed throughout the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Fury's briefing session sure has hell hadn't prepared them for this. Still, all Tony could manage in reaction to Hawkeye sitting in a ruined cake like a failed male stripper was the arch of his eyebrow. Pepper gasped sharply and her hands flew up to her mouth. Around them, people started screaming; Fisk stopped his speech abruptly, just as shocked as any of them. Movement directed Tony's attention to the ceiling, where a figure gracefully twirled around the swinging chandelier and landed on the ground in front of him. Pepper seized Tony's arm.

"Who is _that_?"

The stranger wore what looked like something a professional wrestler would wear; tight blue and red spandex with a large spider emblem blazed across his chest. He didn't look like the sneaking type at all. He turned sharply to face Tony.

"Are you all right, Mr. Stark?" he asked.

He frowned. "Um, yeah. Why?"

Black Widow burst into the room at that moment, her twin pistols held high. She opened fire; the guests screamed again and streamed toward the exits. Barton rolled off the food table and took cover; Tony dragged Pepper along with him to the bar. To his surprise, the stranger dodged every bullet Black Widow fired at him.

"Spiderman!" Fisk bellowed. His voice made the microphone scream with feedback.

Tony frowned again. "Really?"

Black Widow ran forward, elbowing people out of her way. Tony tore his gaze from her, trying to keep Pepper calm while looking for Steve Rogers. He was pushed into the corner, trying to politely tear himself away from the mob of girls, who were all sobbing and clinging to him as gunfire blazed in the ballroom. Tony made a face.

"Pepper, come on. I need a drink."

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward the bar. Happy followed close behind them. Pepper gaped at Black Widow, whose pistols flashed with every pull of the triggers.

"Tony, are you crazy?" she shrieked. "There are more important things going on right now!"

Tony looked over his shoulder in time to watch the masked stranger tilt his head.

"Y'know, it's not nice to point," he said.

With a flick of his wrist, the pistols were torn from Romanoff's hands, wrapped in strange webbing. Tony raised his eyebrows. This guy was serious about the "Spider" thing. Black Widow was unfazed; she followed through with a high kick, which he dodged. She clenched her jaw and unleashed a barrage of attacks, each one swiping the air, unable to make contact.

"You're a pretty good dancer," Spiderman said.

Tony shook his head, tugging Pepper along with him.

"Adorable…" he muttered.

He'd finally made it to the bar. Tony snatched up a cocktail shaker from the back shelf and shook it, listening to the ice rattle inside.

"Shouldn't we do something?" Pepper asked, still watching with wide eyes.

Tony poured the contents of the shaker into a martini glass and sipped it. He plucked an olive from the cooler and dropped it inside. His attention shifted back to Romanoff. Fisk had left the stage, but several of his body guards were pushing him back, trying to get him to leave. Fat chance. Literally.

"Nah," Tony said.

Pepper whirled to face him. "Why not?"

Spiderman made contact; his kick sent Romanoff reeling back. The webbing stuck fast to her ankles and Spiderman pulled it taught. She fell to the floor with a thud. Behind him, Tony heard Happy curse. Before he could do anything, his bodyguard ran off to Black Widow's defense.

"Uh…Hap?"

He ran forward, fist raised, making it all too obvious what he was about to do. Spiderman turned in time, catching Happy's fist in his palm. The web-slinger shrugged.

"Sorry."

He punched him, sending the bodyguard flying back to the floor. Pepper screamed.

"Oh my god!"

She ran to Happy, tapping his face to keep him conscious. Tony chuckled. Pepper rounded on him.

"It's _not_ funny, Tony!"

His smile was persistent. "It's a little funny."

An arrow thudded into the wall next to his head. He raised his eyebrows. Barton stood up from behind the banquet table, scowling. He wiped cake from his temple before aiming another arrow. Spiderman had leapt from the path of the first. He did similarly with the second; Tony heard the arrow zoom past his ear and crash into the mirror behind the length of the bar. He ducked to his knees, spilling martini on his suit.

"How about you _don't_ do that while I'm standing here?" he shouted.

Pepper called to Happy, still trying to wake him up. A familiar voice sounded in Tony's ear.

"So things aren't going according to plan," Bruce said.

"I can see that," Tony replied. He watched Spiderman perform a pirouette, mocking Barton, whose arrow had missed again. It thudded into the wood of the bar and the steel point appeared right by Tony's nose.

"We're on our way," Bruce was saying. "Get in the suit!"

One of the floor-to-ceiling windows shattered in an explosion of glass. The familiar figure of Thor's hammer sailed through the air and clipped the end of the banquet table. It launched into the air and hit both Barton and Spiderman. They fell to the floor. Black Widow writhed on the marble beside them, growling as she slit the webbing binding her ankles. The hammer flew across the room and slammed into Thor's hand, who stood at the entrance. The girls clinging to Steve Rogers screamed. Thor gestured to them with the hammer and tossed Rogers his shield.

"Leave us!" he boomed. "This is no place for mortals!"

As the girls sobbed and scampered out of the room, finally leaving Rogers ready for a fight, Tony heard the familiar sound of steel-toed boots on concrete. He looked up in time to see Fisk run from the stage, sneering back at them as he went. The men opened fire. Spiderman shot a web up to the ceiling and zipped out of sight.

Tony crawled around the corner of the bar. Pepper had managed to wake up Happy and the two of them had huddled under a nearby table as bullets flew around them. Tony reached for them.

"Pepper, give me your hand!"

She strained to reach him. Tony scooted forward; bullets tore up the floorboards in front of him and he had to take cover.

"Suit up, Stark!" Barton shouted, firing an arrow.

"Dammit, I am _trying_!"

Tony threw himself back around the corner and reached for Pepper again.

"I told you this was a dumb idea!" he said. "I should've stuck with bracelets! Why did we even put this in the vows?"

"Because it's romantic!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"Well now I'm regretting it."

Tony finally snatched her hand in his. Their wedding rings connected. The Mark VIII suit instantly sprang to life, crawling over his body. He stood up as the suit took shape around him. Tony grabbed Pepper in an embrace and turned as bullets ricocheted off the armor. He pushed her behind the bar and she took cover under it. Tony stood up and snatched Happy's collar, practically throwing him under the bar as well. Tony nodded to Barton across the room, who had taken cover behind a large support beam. He managed a wry smile.

"So much for discretion, Legolas."

Barton scowled. The helmet snapped shut over Tony's face and Ironman took to the air.

"He's really starting to piss me off!" Barton growled, watching the rafters for any sign of Spiderman.

Natasha rolled up beside him, ducking as gunfire thudded into the support beam.

"We need a new place to hide, Clint."

Rogers appeared in front of them, the shield held out to stop the next barrage of bullets. Barton loosed another arrow and it struck one of the men in the shoulder. He went down and gunfire roared again. Natasha ducked behind Rogers and the two of them headed forward. Barton followed behind them, firing two arrows at a time. He shouted over his shoulder at Thor.

"See if you can find that kid!"

Thor hurled his hammer over their heads and it smashed through the ceiling. Spiderman dropped into view and shot another web, slinging himself back up into the rafters.

"Missed me!" he called.

The hammer flew back to Thor and he threw it again. Spiderman rolled across the ceiling to another wall, narrowly avoiding the strike.

"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me!"

Barton rolled his eyes. "Okay, he seriously needs to go away."

"He's like a mini Stark," Natasha said, firing both pistols. Her shot struck one of the mercenaries and he fell behind the stage. "I can't take another Stark."

"In Asgard we do not kiss our opponents!" Thor roared.

He swung the hammer again and smashed through a support beam. Wood splintered everywhere. The ceiling groaned and the two remaining chandeliers spun, flinging light all around the room. Barton quirked an eyebrow.

"Get us closer, Cap."

"Closer?" he echoed. "If Thor does that one more time this whole place is going to collapse on us."

"Could be worse," Barton reminded him.

Bullets thudded across the shield and Rogers fell to one knee. Natasha reloaded; Ironman flew above them, drawing fire as they gathered their bearings. He fired a few repulsor blasts, burning holes through the wood paneled walls.

"Fisk is getting away," he said. "Priorities. Leave the kid alone."

Spiderman edged out from behind his cover. "I'd listen to him on this one!"

He shot webbing down from the rafters and it latched on to two of Fisk's grunts. With a powerful yank, Spiderman sent them flying. They shouted as they went, sailing past Ironman and landed with heavy thuds back to the ground. The remaining men ducked for cover, still firing. Barton heaved a sigh.

"I'm bored, Tasha. You bored?"

She shrugged. "They _are_ getting in the way of things."

Barton nodded. He drew back an arrow and fired. It exploded on contact, hitting the farthest chandelier. It snapped loose from its hold and crashed on top of the goons. Ironman cut power to his thrusters and clanged to the floor.

"I could've done that."

Barton raised his eyebrows. "Well you didn't."

Natasha and Captain America straightened up. Thor glared up at the ceiling at Spiderman, who hung upside down from one of his webs. Pepper and Happy stood up shakily from behind the bar, wide-eyed.

"We need to talk, kid," Barton said.

"We need to find Fisk," he countered. "And get Mr. Stark's money back."

Natasha frowned. "Where the hell is Bruce?"

Pepper screamed. The Avengers whirled around. Barton caught a flash of green before the Hulk smashed through the remaining window of the ball room. He was not alone; a large machine was tangled in his arms, firing at him from mounted machine guns. Ironman leapt into the air and fired several repulsor blasts, slicing metal as he went. Thor jumped and landed on the Hulk's shoulder. He slammed the hammer deep into the mechanical hide of the robot and Hulk finished it with a killer bear hug. It slipped from his massive arms and fell to the floor with a clang, oozing oil and fluid.

Barton stared. "All right, where the hell did that come from?"

"Machines attack Hulk!" he roared. "Fat man controls them."

"They're Spider Slayers," Spiderman piped up. "Nasty little things made by Oscorp. Fisk uses them to try and kill me every now and then."

Outside the distance, the sky lit up with thruster engines. Barton cursed.

"And they can fly. Fantastic."

He led everyone outside through the hole made by the Hulk and Barton glanced at the exit. Many of the party guests were still running for cover. A black Buick careened out of the parking lot, followed by two cronies on crotch rocket motorcycles. Ironman jumped into the air and started forward.

"See if you can catch up."

Barton narrowed his eyes. He exchanged a look with Natasha as Pepper shouted after the receding figure of her husband.

"Of course, Tony! Just leave us here! WE ALL CAN'T FLY, YOU KNOW!"

Barton nodded to the Hulk. "Pave the way for us, Bruce."

Hulk smirked and stomped away toward the street. Barton seized Happy Hogan by his collar. Natasha grabbed Pepper and they sprinted through the parking lot to the Rolls Royce. Rogers headed in the opposite direction for his motorcycle.

"Keys," Barton demanded.

Natasha shoved Pepper into the backseat.

"No way," Happy replied. "I drive."

"This is kind of important, _Happy_," Barton said through gritted teeth.

"For Christ's sake, just get in the goddamn car and let's go!" Pepper shrieked.

They all stared at her. Natasha's eyes locked with Barton's.

"Shotgun," she said.

Barton cursed. Happy slumped behind the wheel and Barton tossed his bow into the backseat. Pepper yelped as she caught it. The tires screeched and they all slammed back into their seats as the Rolls Royce tore out of the parking lot, lurching over the Hulk's footprints.


	5. Chapter 5

Barton crammed himself through the sunroof of the Rolls Royce and squinted ahead down the street, the wind stinging his face. Ahead of them, the narrow road stretched out to the horizon, sparks flying as the Hulk barreled over street lamps in his path. Fisk's car was far ahead, weaving through traffic. Car horns blared and bystanders screamed. Barton bit his lip.

He was definitely going to kill Fury for giving him this assignment.

Hulk roared and shoved aside cars like he was parting curtains. Thor landed on top of a very expensive looking Lexus driving next to them, denting the roof. The people inside screamed and swerved the car to get him off. Thor looked genuinely confused and hopped from the Lexus to the back of the Rolls Royce. It bucked from his weight; Pepper yelped inside the car. He nodded to Barton, who was still trying to get his footing with Happy's insane driving. His voice carried up through the sun roof.

"Watch the paint, dammit!"

"Priorities!" Barton shouted to him over the wind. He turned back to Thor as the Hulk threw a taxi past them, skidding on its tires. Long slicks of rubber followed it down the street. He was thankful most of the cars had pulled out of the Hulk's path, though Barton knew Bruce was much choosier about what he smashed nowadays. He could just see the rocket boots of the Ironman suit far ahead of them, still tracing Fisk's car. The figure of Spiderman flashed between the buildings, following close behind Stark.

"We need to get closer," Barton said. Behind him, thruster engines roared and he cursed once the flying machines set their sights on him. Thor smashed one of them effortlessly with a hammer throw; Happy swerved the car to avoid the shots fired from the second. Barton ducked back down through the sun roof.

"Pepper! Bow—now!"

She shoved it in his hand and he snapped it into position, shooting an arrow just in time to prevent Thor from being shot from the Rolls Royce. The Spider Slayer slammed to the ground in a shower of sparks, steel melting from where the acid arrow had hit it. Thor turned sharply as the Hulk roared down the road. Barton jerked his head in Hulk's direction.

"See if you can help out Bruce, try and get to Fisk if you can."

Thor twisted the hammer into a spin. "Will you be all right here?"

"I'm still in this thing, buddy," Barton replied, taking the time for a quick smile. "Just give me a sec."

Thor smirked and the car bucked again as he leapt into the sky. It did look ridiculous to see a man in a suit and tie fly through the air but Barton let it go. They'd joke about it later. The Spider Slayers filled the sky with orange light from their engines and Happy swerved to avoid the gunfire spitting from the machine guns. Barton hefted himself out of the car, but a hand seized the cuff of his pant leg. A hand with a very expensive coppery ring on it.

"Pepper, you gotta let me go."

The Slayers were getting closer and he couldn't keep shooting halfway out of the car. His accuracy was severely cut in half. Pepper's grip remained.

"You're going to fly off of the damn car in those stupid dress shoes!" she shouted.

Barton heard the cracking of a pistol and looked down to see Natasha aiming at the approaching machines. He bit his lip and fired an arrow awkwardly from a cramped sitting position; the arrow clipped a wing of the Slayer and it spiraled to the ground. Lucky shot. She needed to let go. Barton looked down at her.

"I'll be fine, Pepper. I promise. Nothing crazy, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and finally let go. He pulled himself fully out of the sun roof and took out another machine with a well-placed acid arrowhead. Happy swerved around it. A familiar motorcycle engine roared down an alley to the left and Rogers appeared, his shield slung over his back. He grinned ruefully.

"Sorry I'm a little late."

Barton shook his head, firing another arrow. It struck the last Slayer and it zoomed into a light post, finally out of their way.

"Ah, I'm having fun without you, Cap."

Rogers laughed. More Spider Slayers appeared ahead, and Barton could see the blasts of light from Stark's repulsors. Hulk roared again and a flourish of metal and sparks went flying into the air. Barton pursed his lips. They still needed to get closer. Natasha's voice suddenly sounded, loud and clear.

"Head's up!"

Barton's eyes widened. Fisk's motorcyclists had circled around and were coming straight toward them. Happy slammed the brakes and Barton went flying forward. The motorcycles zoomed forward; the street lit up with gunfire from their submachine guns. Barton managed to catch on to a wiper blade, preventing himself from falling off. Pepper cried out to him as Happy wrenched the car to the left, exposing Natasha to the bikers. She fired back at them, unfazed. Rogers drove up beside them and Barton's eyes locked with his. He threw the shield to him. It landed on his arm and he grasped the straps tight, curling into a ball underneath. Bullets ricocheted off of the vibranium. Barton's arm tingled afterward. The motorcycles rocketed past them, but a few seconds later their tires screeched. They were coming around again and Barton didn't have much time. He carefully sat up in a crouch and Rogers pulled the bike closer. Barton jumped on the back, slinging the shield over his quiver of arrows. He gripped the bow in his other hand, glancing over his shoulder. Rogers and Happy managed to stay at even speeds.

"This is gonna be tricky," Barton told him. He looked over at Happy, who could hear him through the open window. "Tell Pepper to get down under the seats and go as fast as you can, got it?"

He nodded. Bullets crashed into the Rolls Royce and Barton raised the shield, deflecting them as best he could. Happy and Rogers laid on the speed. Barton hit the button on his bow and the arrowheads changed again. Rogers glared at the reflections of the approaching motorcycles in his side mirrors.

"Whatever you're doing, do it fast, Clint."

He struggled to get an arrow knocked up on the bow. Bullets thudded into the shield again and he wondered how Cap could get used to the constant impact. He held the bow up and fired straight into the sky. Pepper screamed as the back window of the Rolls Royce shattered. Natasha's pistols crackled and muzzle flashes lit up the front seat. The arrow finally came straight back down and exploded on contact. Barton watched the pavement spurt up and the bike careened off the road. Its rider landed on the parked cars lining the street and rolled on to the sidewalk. His comrade sped up, hunching forward on his seat, determined. Barton turned to Happy.

"Unlock the door!"

Happy looked at him like he was crazy. "What?"

"Do it and hit the brakes!"

The bike was closer. Barton winced as bullets thudded into the shield at the back of his neck. Rogers ducked down, looking over his shoulder.

"Look out!" he shouted.

Barton cried out in pain as a bullet grazed his thigh. He almost fell off the bike, but Cap caught him at the last minute. His seized a fistful of his shirt and yanked him back on to the seat. Barton swung the shield and it collided with the rider, but he braked and dropped out of sight. Clenching his teeth, Barton shouted at Happy again.

"Now!"

Just as Happy slammed the brakes, Barton yanked open the door. The tires screeched and the Rolls Royce dropped out of sight. The motorcycle collided with the open door and the rider flew cleanly over the handle bars. He crashed to the ground and the Rolls Royce stopped abruptly, throwing everyone but Natasha forward. The ruined door swung limply on its hinges. Barton caught a glimpse of Nat's smile before he turned back around.

"Stark is going to kill you," Rogers said.

Barton laughed, slightly loopy with adrenaline. He loved the feeling.

"He can try."

Rogers threw down the throttle and the bike shot forward, swerving to avoid the holes made by the Hulk. Up ended cars and ruined machines littered the street as they went. Rogers squinted; Stark was still up ahead, though he was a very distant point on the horizon.

"Looks like they're headed for Time's Square," he said.

There was a sudden flash of green as Hulk rolled past their line of sight along a street running horizontal to them. Barton shook his head.

"I need to get up high," he said. "I can't get a bead on Fisk, Stark, or that Spider kid from here."

Rogers made an abrupt turn to the street where Hulk was busy smashing one of the Slayers into submission. Barton frowned. "What are you doing?"

Rogers smirked. "I have an idea."

He drove up to the Hulk, who shoved his green fist through the machine and silenced the gun fire for good. Rogers whistled loudly for his attention. The Hulk turned to them, ready to grab whatever was making the noise and was disappointed when he realized who they were.

"Barton needs a favor," Rogers said.

Hulk grunted. Above them, the Slayers had returned. Barton wondered how many there were; Fisk couldn't have an unlimited amount. He guessed they'd taken down ten or fifteen, counting the Hulk. There couldn't be more than twenty. Hulk glared at them and Barton guessed he was sick of them, too.

"Archer-man needs to be up high," Hulk said.

"Right," Rogers replied. "Think you could help him out?"

Hulk grunted his yes. Barton frowned. He had no idea what any of this meant. Hulk stomped up to the bike. "Hold on—!"

Before he could react, Hulk snatched him up in his massive hand. It was enough force to knock the air from his lungs. Rogers grinned at him.

"Take good care of Archer-man," he reminded Hulk. "Wouldn't want to smash him."

Barton glared. "I…hate…you…" he rasped.

Rogers waved as Hulk jumped into the air. Barton shouted uncontrollably as they went. When they landed again, Hulk was on another street, running toward Times Square. Barton somehow managed to focus even as the world blurred into light and his teeth chattered every time Hulk took a massive step. The Slayers reappeared and one of them exploded with the contact of Thor's hammer. He appeared behind them, frowning at the form of Barton clenched in the Hulk's hand.

"I see Stark," Barton managed. "Let me go. Put me on a building, a balcony. Something."

Hulk looked at him. Barton realized he wasn't going to just _put_ him anywhere.

"Too far away. You need to catch up," Hulk told him.

Barton shook his head. "Oh, no. No! On top of that building would be just fine—"

Hulk raised his arm and Barton cursed for everything he was worth.

"Don't do it!"

It was no use. Hulk pitched him like he was a fastball right down the middle, destined to be a home run. Barton felt the wind in his hair, stinging his eyes, and imagined it must have been close to how Stark felt when Loki had tossed him out of that window. Still cursing, hurtling through the air above Times Square like a human comet, he reached for his bow, drew back on an arrow and fired. He knew the grappling hook would catch on something.

Barton's only thought before the line pulled taught was of what Fury would say when he found out Bruce had thrown him across half of New York City.


	6. Chapter 6

Barton was still falling. The line yanked too hard and his heart stopped once the rope slipped from his grasp. The momentum flung him around a corner and he shouted again, pin-wheeling as he fell. As he dropped past the skyscrapers, he hoped for the first time in his life Stark would actually pay attention to him. He grabbed for his bow again, but a flash of blue and red met him around the corner.

"Whoo!"

Spiderman snatched him by the belt and pulled him out of the fall. Barton cursed loudly and the kid bounced him in his grip, grabbing him more comfortably around the waist. The cursing continued.

"Hey, that's no way to talk to a guy who just saved your life," Spiderman told him.

Barton was less irritated by the kid's snark and more concerned that they were slinging over buildings by a single web-like thread. Spiderman let go of the web and Barton flailed in his grip, trying to fire another arrow before they fell. But the kid simply shot another thread from his wrist and they stopped falling. Spiderman looked down at him.

"For a guy called Hawkeye you sure don't fly too well."

Barton scowled. "I'll talk to SHIELD about it; maybe they could give me some wings."

"That'd be cool, huh?"

Ironman arrived beside them in a blast of thrusters. "Nice of you to join us, Clint. How is it that you're here, exactly?"

"I'll explain later," he growled through his teeth. "We need to stop Fisk in his tracks. Think you could distract the rest of the Slayers?"

Tony sighed, distorted through the mask. "Boring, but sure."

He banked to the left and engaged the remaining machines, still following determinedly behind them. Barton twisted around in Spiderman's grip, nowhere near comfortable with it.

"Thor!" he shouted.

"You said we did not need to speak loud to hear each other," the Asgardian replied.

Barton was so relieved the earpieces still worked he didn't have time to be frustrated with Thor's incomprehension. He could see the lights of Time's Square ahead.

"See where the giant flashing signs are? Head up there and smash up a bottle neck for Fisk to get stuck in."

"Affirmative."

Spiderman looked down at him. "Uh, no offense, but you're getting heavy."

"Right, this next part will be fun," Barton promised him. "Those webs of yours strong?"

"The strongest," he replied, clearly proud.

"Okay. I want you to sling a web between those two sky scrapers there." He pointed a good distance ahead of them. Fisk's car had just passed it. In the sky above them, Thor flew by, disappearing behind a building as he landed in Time's Square. Car horns blared soon after.

"Then what?" Spiderman asked.

Barton closed his eyes. It sounded insane, but he was out of options.

"Throw me right into it," he said.

"Okay!"

Barton hated the enthusiasm in Spiderman's voice. Behind them, the remaining Slayers exploded in a shower of sparks and debris. Barton could feel the heat on his neck. Ironman flew over them in a great arc, heading toward Time's Square. Spiderman shot a criss-crossing web, forming it between the two buildings. Barton braced himself.

"Here we go," Spiderman announced.

He shot another web up on a high post, flew up in the air and swung around. Barton would never forget the bright moon over the city between his shoes as they did a complete circle to gain momentum. Spiderman let him go, whooping. Barton hit the web and it caught him, stretching so far he thought it was going to snap and he'd break every bone in his body.

But it held. His limbs dangled forward and he was able to use the bow. He fired an arrow and it trailed after Fisk's Buick as it turned the corner into Time's Square. The flachettes on the arrowhead splintered into shrapnel and the back tires popped. Sparks flew into the air and the remaining tires shrieked to stop from running into the pile of taxis Thor had stopped. He jumped in front of the Buick and slammed the hammer on to the hood, stopping it for good

Spiderman swung past Barton, twirling around before he landed on the sidewalk. Two of Fisk's bodyguards appeared from the car, weapons at the ready. Barton fired a tranq arrow that took down one and Spiderman webbed the other. Thor gestured with his hammer at Fisk, who still sat in the car.

"Get out."

Fisk didn't move. Barton sliced at the webbing holding him in place and shimmed down a light post to the street. His boots thudded on to the concrete and he pulled back on the bow, aiming an arrow at Fisk's head.

"You're under arrest by order of SHIELD," Barton said, loud enough for Fisk to hear him. "Unless you want an arrow through your cheek, come out of there with your hands up."

Spiderman put his hands on his hips and nodded approvingly. "Not bad. I think you can threaten better, though."

"I try," Barton muttered.

Ironman clanged on to the sidewalk beside them. He straightened up and the suit whirred with his movements. "Come on, Fisk. No more machines, no more running. Be a graceful loser and get out."

Thor looked at Barton. The archer jerked his chin at him. In one swift move, Thor slammed the hammer across the top of the Buick, successfully turning it into a convertible. Fisk hunched over in his seat, protecting his head with his thick arms. Glass plinked to the ground and fiberglass clanged into several other cars, whose passengers watched with wide, unbelieving eyes. Barton's grip loosened just slightly on the nocked arrow. Fisk straightened up and glared at them.

"Next time we'll have Dr. Banner demonstrate how serious we are," Barton told him. "I suggest you think very hard about your options."

Fisk's scowl remained. He stood from his seat and walked out of the car.

"They never want to deal with Bruce," Stark mused.

He sounded so disappointed. Fisk walked up to him with his hands in the air. Police sirens blared down the Square and flashing lights blazed along the horizon. Barton's arrow remained nocked, even as Stark pushed Fisk to his knees and placed his rocket boot on the man's shoulder. There was still a predicament nagging at the back of his mind.

"Thor?"

"Yes, Clint?"

"The kid."

Spiderman reacted before Thor could grab him. Barton had counted on that. Spiderman zipped up into the air with one fling of the webbing and Thor followed. Barton fired the arrow. With Thor hot on Spiderman's tail, the kid couldn't account for everything. The arrow slammed into him; there was a flash of silver as a net sprang out of the arrowhead and wrapped itself securely around Spiderman. Thor caught him before he could fall and slumped him over his shoulder. He was indignant, of course.

"Hey, what the hell! This is no way to treat a guy who saved you from becoming a pancake!"

Spiderman kicked his legs and strained against the netting. His muscles were strong, but Stark Industries' heavy-duty, micro-fiber net did exactly what it was supposed to do. The kid was wasting his time fighting something meant to slow down the Hulk. Thor frowned as Spiderman flailed in his grip. Barton smirked.

"That's for calling me Robin Hood."


	7. Chapter 7

He had to face Director Fury still covered in frosting and wearing evening clothes pockmarked with holes. His muscles ached, tense with fatigue and overuse. But Clint Barton ignored all of the protests from his body and stood in front of Fury, still clutching his bow in his hand. Natasha stood next to him, her arms crossed. The rest of the Avengers were scattered around the living room of Stark Tower; Pepper slumped down next to Bruce, who sat on the couch now dressed in Happy's suit jacket and an old baggy pair of Stark's sweatpants, normal for the moment. Rogers stood by the window, glancing down at the city where police lights still flashed as they directed vehicles around the wreckage. Thor had busied himself watching over Spiderman, who sat in the corner still in wrapped in the net, brooding like a child.

"Fisk has been successfully taken into custody," Fury said. "But you have not reacquired Stark's money, Agent Barton."

He nodded. "I know, sir."

"Being that was the mission objective I thought you'd have a better answer than that."

Barton winced. Fury pointed a commanding finger at Spiderman.

"Not to mention you have brought a potential threat to Headquarters."

"Thor's got him," Natasha said.

Fury pursed his lips. Barton spoke before Nat could be yelled at.

"With all due respect, Director Fury, I'm not the one who lost Stark's money," he said, ignoring the frosting that flaked from his hair. "Natasha hacked into the system, but the money was gone. There was nothing to acquire."

Fury stared at him, his expression proving that he did in fact live up to his name. Stark, still dressed in his Iron Man suit from the neck down, shook his head.

"Then where is it? Fisk couldn't have spent $100 million already."

"It's possible he made the transfer to Osborne before we got there," Natasha replied. "Though the account history didn't say there were any withdrawals or transfers."

Stark ran his hand through his hair. "Shit…so what happened to it?"

"Uh…that was_ your_ money, Mr. Stark?"

Barton's eye twitched at the sound of the kid's voice. Everyone turned slowly to stare at Spiderman. Barton clenched his teeth. Stark frowned at him.

"Yeah," he said. "Fisk stole it from me to fund some wacky program of Norman Osborne's."

"Oh."

Barton walked up to him. More frosting and bits of cake tumbled from his clothes. Spiderman watched the cake fall to the ground and looked back up at Barton. He shrank back slightly.

"You know something you're not telling us," Barton said.

"Well…" Spiderman managed a shrug. "Kinda…"

Barton nodded to Thor. The Asgardian heaved Spiderman up with one arm and shook him. Spiderman grunted with pain as the net cut into his arms.

"All right, hey! You don't have to use me as a punching bag—I'll talk."

Thor plopped him back down on the floor. Barton knelt beside him.

"Explain yourself, then," he said.

Spiderman sighed. "I knew Fisk was dealing in some bad stuff. He's tried to kill me before—I thought he was going after Mr. Stark and his wife."

Barton raised his eyebrows. That explained why the kid attacked him in the first place; he thought he was one of Fisk's assassins. He prodded Spiderman's chest with his fist.

"Go on."

Spiderman fidgeted. "…I figured if Stark was there, Fisk would have a lot of muscle to prevent him from getting out of the building, just in case he had the suit with him. Which he did—and that was awesome."

Stark grinned. "Yeah, well, the ring thing needs to be reworked but I managed."

Pepper and Barton scowled at him, but for different reasons. Fury was impatient.

"Continue with your story, son," he interrupted. "I would hope you think carefully about your next words."

"I-I didn't mean to attack _the Avengers_, for god's sake! I didn't know you guys were going to be there. I was only trying to protect Mr. Stark. And I hate Fisk; I'll do anything I can to stop him from harming people….so I took the money."

Barton cursed. Stark looked surprised. Spiderman fidgeted urgently to draw their attention.

"But I can give it back! I didn't know it was Mr. Stark's money; if I'd known, I would've left it alone," he said.

Barton glanced back at Nat. She looked amused. She jerked her chin to the kid and Barton relented, sighing.

"Where is the money?" he asked.

"I transferred it to a secret account," Spiderman replied. "If you let me go, I can access it from the computer."

Barton stood. "What's your take, Director?"

"If the boy is lying, he had better know that comes with dire consequences." Barton heard Spiderman gulp. "But, I'll take his word for it. At the moment."

Barton hit a button on his bow and the net shivered around Spiderman's shoulders. It sprang away from him and tumbled to the floor. He stretched.

"Jarvis, help him out," Stark said.

A touch screen glowed across the coffee table and Spiderman studied it for a moment. A keyboard appeared and he began typing. The computer blipped and Spiderman straightened up.

"All set," he said.

Stark looked doubtful. "Jarvis, what do we got?"

Barton crossed his arms, waiting for the computer to process the request. He looked back at Nat again and she arched her eyebrow. She seemed to think things were working out all right. It was more than he could say about himself; Barton could practically feel Fury's angry gaze boring into him.

"Your account is back to its previous balance," Jarvis suddenly announced. "Shall I transfer it to a more secure location, sir?"

"I'd prefer it, thanks," Stark replied.

A strange silence fell upon the Tower. It was difficult to tell, but Barton thought he could see the kid smiling under his mask, proud of himself. Fury strode forward to check the data output himself. He gave a slight nod.

"It seems he wasn't lying. Thankfully for all of us." He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and observed his team. "I am far from done with Wilson Fisk. I'm sure he has a lot to tell us. As for you—Spiderman—I think your work here is finished."

"So you're going to let me go now? You don't want to like, interrogate me or anything?" the kid asked.

Fury smirked. "Not unless Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff wish to oblige you."

Barton pursed his lips. Fury chuckled to himself and headed for the door.

"I will be in touch, gentleman. Good work."

Soon, he was gone. Barton shook his head. Spiderman looked from him to Natasha and back.

"…you really don't want anything from me?"

"I'd like you to go away," Barton replied, crossing his arms.

"Ha ha, really funny. You need to work on that sense of humor, Hawkeye."

"He really does," Stark added. Pepper elbowed him even though he was still in the suit. Bruce laughed. They fell back into silence, staring at him, as if waiting for him to leave. Spiderman's shoulders slouched as he stared at them.

"I don't even get a thank you?"

"Thanks," Barton said, "for making my life a hell of a lot more complicated."

"You're welcome!"

He thought he heard Nat laugh, but he couldn't be sure. Barton slung his bow over his shoulder. "SHIELD will keep an eye on you, kid. We'll know it the next time you show up."

"Doesn't Fury want to know who I really am?" Spiderman countered. Barton pictured him rolling his eyes.

"That's none of my business, is it?" he replied.

Spiderman clapped him on the shoulder. "I do like you, Robin Hood."

Barton refused to reply to that. The kid laughed and headed toward the tower balcony, his hands on his hips. He looked back at them.

"Just one more thing?"

"What's that?" Barton asked, dryly.

Spiderman looked over at Rogers. "Can I get Captain America's autograph?"

"Maybe next time," he said with a smirk.

"Fine by me." Spiderman shot a web out into the night and it hit the nearest skyscraper. He pointed back at Natasha. "Call me!"

She frowned. The kid leapt from the ledge and whooped as he went, swinging through the air. Barton watched him disappear behind the buildings and shook his head.

"Something tells me he's gonna hold you to that autograph, Cap."


	8. And then Shawarma after

_Author's note: Well, this is the end. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, read, favorited, and alerted! I appreciate the love you have for the story. It was a blast. Enjoy!_

* * *

The moon was still bright over the city. Clint Barton was still trying to come to terms with the fact Hulk had thrown him across the span of several districts just hours earlier. He sat leaning against the wall of the Stark Tower balcony, his chin on his arms. His bow was propped against his shoulder, the quiver against his knee. He had reached the pinnacle of tired. A hot shower, a hot cup of tea, and burying himself in blankets were at the top of his priority list.

But he was also hungry.

His stomach wouldn't shut up about it. Thor had likened the noise to that of a Bildshnipe and of course that got him talking about all the damn feasts they had in Asgard. It wasn't like Barton had time to swipe any food at the Ball, even when he wound up covered in half of the food platter anyway. His tired brooding was interrupted by Natasha, who sat next to him. She had appeared practically without a sound. She was good at that. She looked at him for a moment as he stared at the city. Barton felt her finger scrape away a glop of icing at his temple.

"It's vanilla," he said. "In case you're wondering."

She smiled her toothy smile, the real one that he only ever saw. The one she reserved for a mere handful of people, Barton included. He looked over at her, still keeping his chin on his arms.

"It looked like a really good cake," she told him, wiping the frosting on his arm.

"It was. All three stories of it."

Nat laughed again, shaking her head. They fell back into comfortable silence. There had been plenty of times when they had simply shared space with each other, content to calm one another down without words.

"You did good, Clint," Nat said. "I think Fury would agree."

Barton laughed, though it sounded like a scoff. "I think I'm back to being the laughing stock of SHIELD."

"No you're not." He could tell Nat wasn't smiling anymore and was sorry he'd changed the mood. "Fury picked us for this because we could do it. Because you could do it. Hell, you're the only man I know who can teach Thor any semblance of stealth."

Barton laughed for real this time, a boyish staccato laugh that only Nat ever really heard. She smirked. He knew she was picturing Thor lumbering around in a suit and tie in the bushes like he was.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I usually am," she said.

The comfortable silence returned. It was only broken by a terrible growl from Barton's stomach. Natasha frowned at him.

"Jeezus, Clint."

Footsteps sounded on the balcony, joined by the smell of freshly fried meat and bread. Barton's mouth watered. Cap appeared with Thor, who held several drinks in his hand, including a Big Gulp that was meant for the Asgardian. Cap was looking incredibly confused.

"Explain the sense of a drink that size to me," he said. "It's just not _healthy_."

"Nothing's healthy anymore," announced a familiar voice. "America is fat and lazy, and she's done with exercise."

Barton grinned. Stark to the rescue. He appeared, dressed down in jeans and a grey MIT t-shirt with a fading logo across the front. He held up three boxes worth of take-out Shawarma. Bruce followed behind him with a stack of napkins, practical as always, holding up the waist of his borrowed sweatpants. Stark took notice.

"Hm. Maybe we should start packing an overnight bag for you," he mused.

Bruce slumped on the floor next to Natasha, peeling away the paper of the wrapped Shawarma. "Since I've gone naked the past three times this happened, that's not a bad idea."

Cap shook his head, handing Barton a Coke. Stark passed a box to Thor (who would have it all to himself) and sat on Barton's left. He passed two Shawarma wraps to him before finding his own. Barton took a bite of the wrap, and his stomach practically rejoiced at the fact it was going to receive food. Stark spoke between chews.

"Uh, you're welcome, guys."

"Thanks, Tony," they managed. All their voices were muffled with food. Barton leaned his head back against the wall and wriggled his boots side to side. Stark Tower soon fell silent, interrupted only by the squeaking of a bright red bendy straw. Barton looked over at Nat with narrowed eyes. She nodded. Barton reached for his quiver. There was a flourish of ice and a patter of drink, silencing the squeaking.

It was hard for Stark to drink anything with an arrow in his cup.


End file.
